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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23898718">Smooth as Silk, Hard as Steel</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMonie/pseuds/MissMonie'>MissMonie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>X-Men (Comicverse)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad Decisions, Bad Jokes, Bottom Remy LeBeau, First time writing this, Fluff and Smut, I'm Bad At Tagging, Kissing, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Logan, Wolverine - Freeform, Wolverine is Eager, gambit - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:07:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,220</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23898718</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMonie/pseuds/MissMonie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Remy talked a big game while drunk. Now he's sitting on a cold parapet waiting on Logan. Yeah, bedding the Wolverine was a stellar idea.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Remy LeBeau/Logan (X-Men)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>130</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Smooth as Silk, Hard as Steel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bedding the Wolverine was an amazing idea.</p><p>When Remy had a belly full of high end whiskey and all the confidence of Scott fucking Summers when he thought he was right. Sober? Yeah, he realized just how terrible the idea was. But he was a man of conviction, and unfortunate witnesses with fucking camera phones, and would not back down from a challenge. Remy Etienne LeBeau was anything but chicken.</p><p>“Remy Etienne LeBeau is stupid wha’ he is.” Remy shuffled his deck again as he perched on the concrete parapet outside the garage in his “date night” attire of a pair of khaki slacks and a white button down. “He gonna get his stupid ass carved up.”</p><p>The soft sound of his cards put his mind at ease, but the cool wind blowing at his back didn’t stop his fidgeting. October in New York was on par with January in New Orleans and he hated it. He hated that three chilly months turned to six frigid ones. He hated the cold bathrooms. He hated training in the snow. No, he’d take that back. He hated training with Wolverine in the snow. Logan was a goddamn menace in the chill. The way he moved through the forest like a shadow put the fear of a higher power in Remy. He remembered far too many times tromping through shin high snow piles only to hear the telltale snickt of adamantium, and a heavy weight slam into his back.<br/>His back ached at the memory of Logan’s knee pressing into his kidneys. The way Logan leaned over him, hot breath in his ear. Each snarled insult as he pressed Remy’s head into the snow. The warmth wafting off Logan like a fucking heater. Ah, so that’s what Remy’s drunk brain used to facilitate his means of death. The combination of body heat, and the sensation of being trapped against someone two shades north of animalistic always did interesting things to Remy’s brain. And his libido.</p><p>Logan had a charm Remy felt no need to deny. He didn’t always go for men, women tended to be the preference, but strong and mean happened to be his type. The way Wolverine carried himself, the way he shoved Remy around in the Danger Room all spoke to the wild brutality buried under barely contained composure. Remy liked danger, and danger usually returned the sentiment. Often in spades.</p><p>The wind picked up again as he hunkered down into his coat. Maybe he needed to call it a night, try to seduce Logan over a hot breakfast. The man always seemed in a trance when shoveling down bacon and eggs. Kitty probably only had fingers left because of the whole permeation mutation. No way in hell did Remy want the last slice of bacon bad enough to fight Wolverine for it.</p><p>He shifted his legs, readying to stand, when the sound of a motorcycle echoed from the front gates. Against its own wishes, his ass planted back down on the cold concrete while the rest tried to pretend it hadn’t spent the better part of forty minutes waiting. Remy resumed shuffling his cards, glancing up long enough to ensure it was Logan. Not that he imagined anyone else liked to ride in the cold. Fucking bastard. Remy was gonna catch cold for some tail that experience said would be unaccommodating!</p><p>Logan coasted his bike around the slim curve and stopped a few feet from Remy. Remy lifted his head and offered Logan a little wave fit with a smirk. He pushed off the parapet just as Logan cut the engine, hands on his helmet.</p><p>“You tryin’ ta make yourself into a Cajun Popsicle, Gumbo?” Logan called as he dismounted. He held the bike’s handlebar and dug around in his leather jacket for the garage clicker. “Don’t think anyone wants somethin’ that fishy tastin’.”</p><p>Remy pursed his lips and tucked his deck. Why was he trying to get into Wolverine’s pants again? Right. Pride. Drunk pride. And sick fascination. Damn his dick.</p><p>“Dat’s funny, mon ami.” He opted instead, trailing behind Logan as he wheeled the motorcycle into the garage. A quick glance told Remy Scott and Jean were out, and he had it on good authority Kurt and Kitty had “big dates, like real big” for the night. “You jealous a Remy’s rich heritage in a seafood capitol?”</p><p>“Nope.” Logan popped the P as he parked his bike towards the back. It was a nice, older Harley with a black finish. The X-logo was stamped just under the accelerator. Logan turned on a boot heel and looked Remy up and down with a smug expression. “Just remarkin’ on how you really gotta start usin’ mouthwash after your ‘dates’, Gambino.”</p><p>“Low bar, Wolverine.” Remy shook his head.</p><p>“You’re the one who dropped it on the floor.” Logan shrugged and stepped past him. “Surprised you ain’t tripped over it yet.”</p><p>Remy frowned as Logan headed out of the garage. How did anyone find anything attractive about him? Christ, Remy had slept with a bunch of people in his years, but Logan….shit. Had to be the muscles. Everyone went nuts for a well built body. Sure as hell wasn’t the personality. A slow look over confirmed it even. The tight fit of dark jeans like fucking Fred Ward in the first Tremors movie coupled with the dangerous appeal of the leather jacket fit snug to his shoulders did something to Remy’s more baser instincts. It he were a weaker man, he might dare a swoon.</p><p>“You have a good ride?” He ventured.</p><p>Logan glanced over his shoulder as he waited to close the garage. When Remy ducked out, he clicked the button and offered another shrug.</p><p>“Same as all my others.” Cold eyes flicked up to Remy’s. He could see confusion in them. “You want somethin’, Ace?”</p><p>It was subtle, Remy chalked it up to their years on a team together, but Logan scented the air. For a minute, Remy wondered what he might smell. Was always a dangerous game flirting with Logan. If the heart rate spike didn’t tip him off, the smell of lust and want tended to.</p><p>“Is start a hockey season.” He waved a hand in a vague gesture while he looked away. “Figured you might wanna watch. Wit’ me.”</p><p>The snort stung a little as Logan rolled his eyes and headed towards the side door of the house that led into the kitchen.</p><p>“You watch sports? Guess that last scrap with Magneto’s got me a little confused, Gumbo.” Logan groused.<br/>Remy huffed, “Hey, I watch sports.”</p><p>“Gymnastics wit’ Jubilee don’t count because we both know why you watch.” Logan opened the door, giving Remy a look. “I can smell it when you do.”</p><p>Like Logan had room to talk. He watched roller derby for the same reasons. So what if Remy liked flexible over smashing faces into polished wood? </p><p>“Remy figure now’s good time, oui? You know, New Orleans has a team.” He grinned as they stepped into the warm kitchen. He could still smell the remnants of the boudin he made for the house.</p><p>“The Brass ain’t a real team.” Logan replied as he made his way for the fridge. “They disbanded back in the early 2000’s anyways.”</p><p>Remy locked the door behind them. He knew that little quickly googled factoid would be a swing and a miss. Well, not like he started this out with his best game or anything. Wolverine wasn’t like Rogue or anyone else. Wolverine was...Wolverine.</p><p>“Left’chu a plate in da microwave.” Remy said gently. “Made boudin.”</p><p>“You cooked?” Logan tossed an incredulous look over his shoulder as he fished out a beer from the back. “Hell, I don’t think my healing factor’s that good.” A claw poked free to pop the cap while Logan took a long swallow.</p><p>“Fuck you.” Remy flipped him the bird as he shouldered Logan away from the fridge. “Remy a damn fine cook.”</p><p>“First time I’m hearin’ it.” Though Logan did saunter towards the microwave. Remy’s hand caught on one of the bottles. “Kind of you to ask before stealin’ a man’s liquor, thief.”</p><p>Remy’s hand redirected for a bottle of apple juice while he sneered at the leftover coconut pie. </p><p>“Ain’t gettin’ yo’ beer.” He straightened and cracked the lid of the juice. “An’ you’d know ‘bout my cookin’ if you was here when I did it.”</p><p>The microwave clicked as Logan pulled the bowl out. Remy turned to see him peel back the cling wrap and fish out a spoon from the drying rack. The smell of onions and Cajun spice wafted towards him.</p><p>“Maybe you need to do it more. You’re awful lazy, Cajun.” </p><p>Remy huffed and considered taking the pie, too. You know, for something to jam in Wolverine’s stupid face.</p><p>“Remy cook more if ya like da food, Wolvy. How’s dat?” His shoulders rose a little in defense. A man picked up quite the interesting repertoire when bumming around the country.</p><p>“Don’t call me Wolvy and we’ll see if this slop kills me.” Logan called as he headed for one of the living rooms. Fun thing about mansions, they tended to have several variations of the same room. </p><p>“Deal.” Remy bit back the desire to toss a card at Logan’s head. No collateral damage in the house.</p><p>The west living room tended to be dubbed “Wolverine’s den” since it had the reclining couch end Logan had broken in over the course of his stay with the X-Men. It also had a large bay window that looked out on the front gates. No one really used this one except for Jubilee and Kitty, though it seemed they had somehow managed to worm their way into Logan’s frigid, Canadian heart. Witchcraft, Remy liked to call it. </p><p>The sofa groaned as Logan settled down into it, setting the bowl on the end table while he kicked off his boots. Remy opted to leave his on, but did offer to take Logan’s coat to hang by the door. Logan obliged and settled back into the chair, popping up the foot rest. Remy shrugged his trench coat off and hung them both up, Logan’s leather looking far more worn these days.</p><p>“You needa new jacket, mon ami. Dis one’s gonna come apart on you.” </p><p>“I’ll take it into consideration.” Logan grunted as he made himself comfortable. </p><p>The television turned on a few seconds later while Logan pulled the bowl onto his lap. He dipped the spoon in and lifted it to his lips. Remy felt his chest tighten as he watched. What did it matter if Logan liked his food? Another source of pride, he realized. If Logan found his work unpalatable then that would be a bruise.</p><p>“You starin’ at me makes me lose my appetite, Gumbo. Sit down.” Logan snapped. Remy jumped to obey. “You’re real squirrely tonight.”</p><p>The couch sagged under Remy, the springs dug into his ass. No wonder why Logan liked it, he had it broken in alright. Broke down.</p><p>“How,” Remy wet his lips as he heard Logan take another spoonful, “how’s it?” He dared a glance, shifting his eyes back to the television once he saw the third bite.</p><p>Logan remained quiet as he took a fourth, fifth. The sudden thirst for validation rolled around in Remy’s head while he crossed his arms and leaned back, praying he looked as nonchalant as he wanted to feel.</p><p>“Mmm.” The noise drifted out of Logan like a large cat seeing something it liked. It rumbled against the sofa back and reverberated in Remy’s chest. “S’not bad. I could eat it again.”</p><p>A sigh left Remy that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Logan smirked as he took another bite. Fucker.</p><p>“Remy’ll remember dat den.” He managed.</p><p>Logan made another hum, this one not as low. </p><p> </p><p>About twenty minutes into the game, Remy started to sidle closer to Logan. In the same span of time, the older man worked himself deeper into his recline. He sat with his broad arms crossed over his chest, cursing at the television over bad plays. As far as Remy could tell, they all seemed bad plays. Voicing that, though, might cost him his windpipe. So he let Logan rant and rave until only a couple of inches separated them. He knew Logan noticed, but was surprised he hadn’t been shoved to the floor. His pulse tried to quicken, reminiscent of nights slipping past “high class” security. This felt different though. Even facing down Sentinels alone barely held a candle to the idea of copping a feel on the Wolverine. Fuck, why hadn’t he had a drink before he tried this?</p><p>“You know wha’ would make dis game betta?” His hand lifted, aiming for Logan’s thigh. “If you let Remy-”</p><p>Powerful fingers tightened over slim ones. There was a single squeeze, a warning.</p><p>“Don’t know what you’re playin’ with there, Cajun.” Logan growled, steely eyes snapping to Remy’s red ones. The curl of his lip revealed sharp canines.</p><p>His heart slammed into the back of his throat. The predatory sensation wafting off Logan dug at Remy. It pulled at every ounce of his common sense, screaming at his self preservation to run. Not to push, to turn tail. Remy was many things. A chicken was not one of them.</p><p>“An’,” the edges of his lips tipped up in an all too self assured smirk, “wha’ if Remy know exactly wha’ he playin’ wit’, Wolverine?”</p><p>Logan met him with a toothy grin, one that promised pain and aches in all the best places. A shiver chased itself down Remy’s spine, making him quake.</p><p>“I’d say you’re a fucking idiot. But, why state the obvious?” Logan’s grip remained on his hand. “I don’t think you understand, my tree ain’t the tree your little lap dog self needs barkin’ up.”</p><p>“An’ maybe Remy tink you bark worse dan yo’ bite.” Everything in him screamed to back down, but he pushed, leaning into Logan’s space until the tips of their noses nearly touched. “You gotten complacent in yo’ domestication, cher.”</p><p>He heard the strike to his chest before he felt it. The springs dug into his back before the registration of Logan’s hand pressing firmly, hotly, against his neck. Logan hovered over him with that sharp grin, slow pressure choking the breath from him.</p><p>“My bark ain’t nothin’ compared to my bite, Gambit. You really wanna see it?”</p><p>One hand gripped the sofa cushion while the other pawed uselessly at Logan’s flannel shirt. </p><p>“Lo-Logan!” He gasped.</p><p>“What?” Logan cocked his head, eyes alight with sadistic glee as he applied a fraction more pressure. It was just enough to keep Remy panting. “Thought you liked games of chance, Ace?”</p><p>Remy’s hand went to Logan’s wrist, squeezing. His feet kicked against the floor and the opposite armrest while Logan leaned closer. The couch groaned at the shift of weight, and Remy became acutely aware of Logan’s knee pressing firmly against his groin. </p><p>“Merde.” He wheezed. “Logan-”</p><p>“You want me to stop, Cajun? Say it.” He emphasized his words with a very prominent nudge.</p><p>His currently traitorous cock stiffened with each rough shift of denim against slacks. The words formed on his tongue, but each time he went for them, he felt his cock twitch. It felt...good, he admitted. The heavy feeling of Logan baring down on him, the heat from his body. The way his hand applied just enough pressure to worry Remy.</p><p>“Logan, s’il vous plait ne t’arrete pas.” His hips betrayed him next as they rocked upward.</p><p>The smirk on Logan’s face, against all odds, turned even more sinister. The hand around Remy’s throat eased away, as did the weight. Logan stood up and sat about hunting for the remote.</p><p>“You’ve got about a thirty second head start, Cajun.” He picked up the remote and turned the game off. “Figure that’s how long it’ll take me to walk into the kitchen, rinse my bowl, toss my bottle, then come after your skinny ass.” He picked up the bowl and empty beer bottle before looking down at Remy. “You’re wastin’ your time. Unless you want me to fuck you in here.” He shifted his weight and headed for the kitchen. “Your call, just think the privacy of a room’d be better.”</p><p>It wasn’t until Logan cleared the archway into the kitchen Remy’s brain kicked back into gear. While not as frequently used, the living room would be a very bad place to be caught in such a...compromising position. Plus, the Institute was a school. What kind of example would they be setting for the kids if one of them heard odd noises and came to investigate? </p><p>“Merde.” Remy bit his lip, rolling off the sofa and bolting for the stairs just as he heard the water start in the kitchen. </p><p>He may have had a longer stride than Logan, but Logan had power. And a prey drive. Fuck. Was this a good idea? His dick seemed to think so, but as he darted through the halls with as careful steps as he could manage, his thundering heart argued. Logan seemed eager after a minimal teasing. Eager and aggressive. Remy was used to rough handling by the few men he let in bed, but none went for his neck. His hair, sure. Even women liked to wind their hands in his ponytail and yank. But this. This was something different. </p><p>Experience told him Logan would be on him before he knew the older man was there. Either way, Remy strained his hearing past the rush of blood for something, anything, to warn him. Nothing but the silence of the mansion, and his breathing. And then in that instant, he felt it. The sensation of being hunted. It felt like a spike to his blood, a sudden, undeniable escalation of adrenaline. He skirted a corner, taking the next set of stairs to the third floor. A rough laugh trailed him up the steps while a quick look down revealed Logan grinning at him. He looked wild, more than normal, and that sent a jolt down Remy’s spine.</p><p>“Pretty quick on your feet, Gambino.” Logan called as he started up the stairs. “You won’t make it.”</p><p>Remy hit the third floor landing and pushed his legs as hard as they would go. The upper floor was freshly remodeled after the last time someone decided to drop Professor Xavier a visit. Through his roof. That meant many of the rooms were unoccupied. The ones closest to Remy’s were completely devoid of residents, full of seasonal decorations and other junk that traded rooms as new mutants filled the school. Privacy indeed. The idea of no one really hearing him thrilled and terrified him.</p><p>“Fuck dis.” He muttered.</p><p>His room loomed ahead like a beacon. He was almost there, just a few more feet. The same familiar weight slammed into his back, sending him sprawling to the floor. He skidded across the freshly polished wood about a foot before stopping. Logan’s hand pressed against the back of his head, holding him down.</p><p>“Got you, Cajun.” He leaned down to breathe. Fucker was barely panting. “Maybe I shoulda gave you a bigger head start?”</p><p>“An’ maybe,” Remy gasped, his cheek pressed hard against the floor until all he smelled was the wax, “Remy wanted caught?”</p><p>“Pfft, sure. And I’m Canadian royalty.” Logan caught his hand in the back of Remy’s dress shirt and climbed off his back to haul him to his knees. “Better get that door open, bub.”</p><p>Remy swatted at his hand. This was a good shirt! Tasteless ass. He climbed to his feet and dusted himself off.</p><p>“An’ if Remy don’?”</p><p>“Then Logan fucks you up against the wall so hard you wake the whole damn place.” Logan jabbed his finger in Remy’s chest.</p><p>Remy smirked and turned to open his bedroom door. He shifted to face Logan.</p><p>“Remy surprise you dis quick to get in his bed. Always pegged you fo’ tinkin’ you too good fo’ Remy.”</p><p>Logan crossed his arms, his eyes drifting over Remy in a slow pass. It made him shiver from anticipation. Would Logan give him that same scrutiny naked?</p><p>“You never asked me to.” The reply was simple. “You ever think there was a reason I always drug you off to the Danger Room or on training sessions?”</p><p>Remy tilted his head from side to side, scrunching his brows.</p><p>“Always figure you don’t like Remy. Like beatin’ on him.”</p><p>Logan snorted, “I like beatin’ on Cyke. You? I like makin’ you sweat.”</p><p>Well that was possibly a disgusting come on, but Remy would take it considering where it came from. He stepped into his room, gesturing Logan in. The curtains had been left open from earlier in the day. Now they let in bars of silvery moonlight that highlighted his bed and left tracks across the carpet.</p><p>“Best side a da mansion in-” He was cut off by Logan yanking on his shirt. The door slammed as Logan shoved Remy roughly against it. “Could let a man get-”</p><p>Logan’s mouth slammed against Remy’s in a heated, bite filled kiss. Remy’s hands hung limp at his sides while he allowed Logan control The taste of his cooking and beer still lingered on Logan’s mouth as he pressed his tongue into Remy’s. The smell of cigars and pine hung off Logan like a well blended cologne, filtering through Remy’s senses. His eyes slipped shut as his tongue wrestled against Logan’s. A sharp bite made him hiss as those rough hands caught the opening of his dress shirt. Before any other protest besides a grunt could escape him, buttons scattered in the air, and those callous hands explored every inch of bare skin in rough sweeps. Logan’s mouth eased from Remy’s and caught at his neck, tongue tip pressed firm against the fluttering pulse. At the same time, his hands roved down Remy’s belly until his fingers hooked in the waistband of the khaki slacks. Teeth brushed against his neck, dangerously close to something vital, then eased lower to clamp hard onto his trapezium. A strangled, barely suppressed, whine left Remy’s throat, and he felt Logan smile against his skin.</p><p>“What’sa matter, Gambit?” He peeled back from the mark, laving blistering pain with a hot swipe of his tongue. “Thought you wanted to see my bite?”</p><p>Blood rushed to all the wrong places in that moment, Remy cursing his damn anatomy with it, as he found himself rubbing against the tight confines of his pants. His fingers lifted to his mouth, so he could tug his glove off. Logan’s eyes tracked the movement, breath still. Remy peeled the fabric away and dropped it before working the other glove loose in the same fashion. His free right hand moved smoothly under Logan’s flannel, past the wife beater, and against warm, hard muscle. Logan’s eyelids dipped just a bit as Remy traced along the side of his stomach. Against better judgment, Remy found himself leaned into Logan, chest to chest.</p><p>“Yo’ bite ain’t dat bad, cher.” He whispered. “Remy know you can do betta. Gettin’ old, Wolverine? Can’t keep up wit’-”</p><p>Remy hit his carpet hard while Logan twisted his left arm behind his back. The right lay pinned under him, digging into his ribs. Logan shifted his weight, pressing about half into Remy’s lower back, while he leaned down to breathe against the thief’s ear.</p><p>“You really need to learn when to shut up, Gumbo.” The grip tightened on Remy’s wrist.</p><p>Remy winced as he forced out a laugh. Riling up Wolverine was a stupid idea, he’d admit it, but it had always been fun. Even now, half hard and pressed to his own floor.</p><p>“What? Remy poke yo’ ego? Desole coeur tendre. Remy be gentle.” The grin morphed into a sharp intake as Logan twisted his arm higher up his back to the point he worried for dislocation. “Putain!”</p><p>Logan breathed against his neck again. This time, the weight spread out over Remy’s back. Logan’s knees braced at either side of Remy’s hips while he eased lower. Despite the thickness of the denim, and the stiff fabric of the slacks, Remy felt Logan’s erection press against his ass. His eyes widened just a bit as he let it sink in. Logan was eager. Had he missed some subtle clues the Wolverine dropped? Would it really have come to this if he’d asked Logan to share a bed? Maybe, maybe not.</p><p>Remy squirmed under Logan for a moment. Both arms started to go numb, desperate to take some weight off the one trapped under him, he bumped his hips. And ground against Logan. A low groan left him, right in Remy’s ear. Remy froze then did it again and again. The groan turned to a growl as Logan’s hand pressed into the back of Remy’s neck. His other hand freed Remy’s arm, which Remy happily flexed to ease the tingles.</p><p>“Last chance.” Logan whispered, voice thick and rough. “Do you want this, Gambit?”</p><p>Remy tried to look at him from the corner of his eye, but all he saw was the ceiling fan. He wet his lips, swallowed.<br/>“Oui. I want you.”</p><p>Logan’s weight left him completely, and in those brief seconds, Remy wondered if this had been some drawn out game for Wolverine. To make him want then leave him bereft. And then he was on his back, hands pinned above his head, powerful thighs at his hips, and that hot mouth pressed hard against his. The kiss burned as Logan invaded Remy’s mouth with his tongue, lapping at every inch. Remy’s hands flexed under Logan’s tight grip, desperate for touch. Logan lifted them a centimeter then slammed them down with a growl against Remy’s face.</p><p>“My terms, Cajun.”</p><p>Chills followed the warmth of breath as Logan eased his head down to lick at Remy’s neck. His tongue darted into the hollow between his collarbones then back up to trace the line of his carotid. Remy swallowed, body tensing as Logan took long, broad swipes against either side of his neck. Teeth returned to the non bruised side of his neck as Logan chomped down harder than before.</p><p>“Ah!” Remy squeezed his eyes shut as a jolt of pleasured pain forced his cock to twitch against his slacks. </p><p>“Shh.” Logan sucked at the mark before lavishing it with his tongue.</p><p>“Fuck, Logan-”</p><p>“Gambit, unless the next words out of your pretty little mouth are ‘fuck me’ or some variation, I ain’t interested.” Logan released Remy’s hands as he eased down the younger man’s frame. He settled at Remy’s knees and began to work his belt. “I fuck on my terms.”</p><p>A cocksure smirk flitted across Remy’s lips as he propped himself on his elbows.</p><p>“Oh yeah?” He tilted his head. “You do anytin’ on someone else’s terms, mon coeur tendre?”</p><p>The belt fell away as Logan flashed him a dangerous look.</p><p>“You wanna get off?” He waited for Remy to roll his shoulders in a half confirmation. “Then don’t call me fucking tender heart.”</p><p>“Wha’ever ya say, cher.” Remy waved a hand.</p><p>His dick ached for touch while Logan opened his belt. Remy worried his lip, hips twitching with each passing brush of Logan’s hand as he undid his fly. The sound of his zipper opening echoed in Remy’s head. He fought back a shiver as the cool air in the room struck the damp spot on his boxer briefs. Logan smirked and pressed a rough palm against the bulge, squeezing.</p><p>“Not bad. I’d always figured you had a small pecker. What with the big mouth and bravado.” His hands gripped either side of Remy’s slacks and pulled them off, tossing them in the corner along with his shoes. “Color me surprised, Gumbo.”</p><p>Remy snorted, “Ain’t gonna rise to yo’ bait, Wolverine.”</p><p>“No, but you sure did rise to somethin’ else.” Logan leaned down and pressed his mouth to the head of Remy’s cock.</p><p>Remy’s hips jolted, and Logan’s hands gripped either side of them, pinning him down roughly to the carpet again. His eyes flicked up to Remy’s in warning. Right, his terms. As Remy settled, Logan sucked against the fabric, mouthing the tip of the head. His tongue flicked here and there. The sensations left Remy’s thighs clenching and his gut twisted. His eyes remained riveted on Logan as he slid his lips down to mouth at his balls. Fuck, he’d never in a million years dreamed Wolverine would be sucking him through his boxers.</p><p>“Logan,” his voice came out small as he struggled not to fight the hands holding him down, “yo’ gonna make me cum.”</p><p>Logan pulled off, giving him a near annoyed look before sitting back on his heels.</p><p>“That’s the idea.” He began to unbutton his flannel. “But I guess you want a little more first?”</p><p>Remy nodded as Logan tossed the shirt. The wife beater went next and Remy’s mouth went dry as Logan dropped his hands to his belt to undo his jeans. A part of him, maybe the more naive part, refused to believe his eyes. The rest of him couldn’t wait for Logan to get his pants off.</p><p>“You wanna do it on da bed, cher?” He threw a haphazard glance back to his bed. “I got lube an’ condoms in da nightstand.”</p><p>“Don’t care for condoms.” Logan stood up and worked his jeans down, revealing a pair of black shorts. “Bed sounds fine though. Figure you’ll bitch if I give you rug burn.”</p><p>Remy managed a lopsided grin before he stood up. He tried not to linger on the size of Logan against the straining fabric. How much bigger than Remy he was. Or how it would feel having all of that shoved into him. </p><p>“Don’t feel too good rubbin’ Kevlar, non.” He agreed and popped the drawer of his nightstand open. The lube rolled to the back. </p><p>Logan stepped behind Remy, his hands pressed against the small of his back. They traveled around his waist and down to slip his boxer briefs over his thighs. Remy swallowed and caught the bottle of lube just as his underwear hit the floor. Logan’s hand eased along the side of his hip and back along his ass. It squeezed then gave a firm smack.</p><p>“On your back, Gambit.” It was not a request.</p><p>Remy sat down, shifting onto his side. The soft feel of his sheets and the familiar smell of himself offered some comfort before the new feeling of Logan crawling in after him took over. Against the moonlight, Logan looked more animal than man. His eyes racked over Remy with hunger and want. Covetous seemed a good word. Remy wet his lips and Logan leaned in. This kiss was less ferocious but still as deep, passionate. Logan’s fingers traced Remy’s jaw, cupping behind his ear, as he deepened the kiss. Their tongues brushed and parted as the kiss turned wet. </p><p>“Can...can I touch?” Remy ventured.</p><p>“Yeah.” Logan grunted back as he kissed trails down Remy’s neck, towards his ear.</p><p>Remy’s hands wrapped around Logan’s broad shoulders, holding him close. The feel of rough muscle and soft hair made his fingertips tingle while Logan licked the shell of his ear. This was different to the sudden lusting in the hall, that rough kiss at his door. Logan eased down again to trail kisses along Remy’s chest. His tongue flicked against either nipple in a quick taste before he moved down Remy’s smooth stomach. Remy made an appreciative noise, letting his hands fall above his head while Logan moved down him. A kiss above his navel, one to the line running from his hip to his groin. Logan’s hands spread his thighs wider apart as he licked a line down the inside of Remy’s right thigh then back up the left towards the juncture of his hip. It left him quaking, wanting more.</p><p>“Logan, sil vous plait.” He whispered.</p><p>Logan obliged him, sitting back on his heels and opening the lube. He poured a generous amount into his hand and coated two fingers. His free hand shifted Remy’s legs apart again.</p><p>“Open.”</p><p>Remy obeyed the simple command and slid his hands down to spread himself for Logan as he pressed two fingers to the twitching hole, coating it. The lube felt cool against his hot skin, making him gasp. Logan rumbled something that sounded pleased before he pressed a thick finger inside. He worked it around for all of three seconds before a second joined. The ache of being stretched so suddenly made Remy tense.</p><p>“Easy.” Logan worked his fingers in a gentle flex.</p><p>Remy let out a breath and melted into the bed as Logan fucked him with his hand. The gentle curl turned into thrusts and then scissoring before the motions sped up. Another gasp left Remy as a third finger entered him. He bit back a whimper as his cock shuddered, leaking pre cum onto his belly.</p><p>“Logan!”</p><p>“Shh!” This time it was harsher as his fingers withdrew. “Almost, Gambit.” </p><p>Remy whined at the empty feeling and opened his eyes to watch Logan lube himself. Fuck he was bigger than any man Remy had taken in quite a long time. He swallowed again, shivering. Logan made eye contact as he guided his head towards Remy’s wanting hole. He pressed in roughly, shivering as Remy did then shoved in to the hilt.</p><p>“Fuck!” Remy’s hands went to Logan’s arms as it burned. Logan’s hands caught his thighs, pushing them back as far as they could go. “Fuck! Logan!”</p><p>“Give it a minute. Just need to let you adjust.”</p><p>Remy squirmed on the bed, panting. His nails caught on Logan’s skin and wracked down, leaving marks. They disappeared a moment later while Logan only smirked at him.</p><p>“You a bastard, Wolverine!” Remy hissed.</p><p>“And you’re a little bitch.” Logan countered.</p><p>Remy glared just as Logan decided to ease out of him. He whined at the sensation as he withdrew to just the tip. Logan thrust back in quickly, smacking their hips together. His hands gripped tight to Logan again as the older man sat a rough pace that only grew more brutal with each thrust. Remy arched his back as his hands fell away from Logan and caught in the sheets, bunching them until he felt his knuckles blanch. </p><p>“Merde!” He breathed, a line of curses trailing after.</p><p>Logan managed a breathless chuckle as he continued to slam home. Remy’s legs shifted to wrap around the other’s hips, squeezing. Logan ran his hand along the side of Remy’s chest, fingertips searching. He caught one of Remy’s nipples and pinched sharply, wringing another gasp from the Cajun. Remy’s hips bucked against Logan’s as he continued to swear in French.</p><p>“You sound a lot better like this, Cajun.” Logan rumbled above him as he pressed a biting kiss to Remy’s jaw.</p><p>Remy’s fingers wound in Logan’s dark hair, tugging as that damned mouth nipped along his neck again. He felt his stomach tighten as Logan’s pace turned agonizing. The bed groaned underneath them as Logan slammed into Remy hard enough to make the younger man’s teeth clack in his skull. </p><p>“Ahh, Logan!” Remy quaked as Logan twined their fingers, holding Remy’s hands above his head again and biting into his shoulder this time. A few more deep thrusts had the Cajun singing Wolverine’s praises as he came between their stomachs.</p><p>Remy let out a breathless, near soundless, moan as he arched into Logan. He clamped down around Logan’s cock just as he felt him give one final, deep thrust before he came. Warmth flooded him, making him forget all about sitting on that cold concrete waiting. Logan panted against his neck, chest pressed firm against Remy’s. Their hearts raced together as they tried to catch their breath. </p><p>“Shit.” Logan whispered as he rolled them, his softening cock still buried to the hilt. Remy flattened against his sweaty chest in boneless bliss. “Ain’t half bad, Cajun.”</p><p>Remy snorted in contentment as he stroked Logan’s chest.</p><p>“Guess you ain’t so bad either, Wolverine.”</p><p>Logan rumbled as he stretched his arms behind his head. Remy started to sit up, to pull off.</p><p>“Maybe next time, you won’t be so indecisive, Gumbo. Could have some real fun then. Won’t need to hold back.”<br/>Remy huffed and swatted at Logan as he flopped beside him. He’d deal with the mess leaking onto his sheets in a minute. Power nap.</p><p>“You held back? My head.” He waved at his neck. “You call dat holdin’ back?”</p><p>“Yeah, I do.” Logan grinned at him. “Next time’ll be harder, and you won’t be gettin’ a head start to run either.”</p><p>“Pfft. Sho’nuff, Wolverine.” Remy yawned and stretched out like a lazy house cat. “Next time Remy will getchu.”</p><p>“Don’t bet on it, Gambit.” Logan prodded his side. “Hand me your phone. I bet I can catch the last half of my game. You can take a breather. Round two in the shower.” Wasn’t a question.</p><p>Remy rolled his eyes, but grabbed for the nightstand either way. He tossed his iPhone to Logan and grabbed for his pillow. A shower sounded nice. A shower with Wolverine sounded even better.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>First time writing GambitxWolverine. They're my two favorite X-Men and all that. I may write more in the future, hard to say. I've not written smut, especially man on man smut, in quite a long time. Felt nice to flex old muscles.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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